


Come Away, O Maiden Fair

by faranth



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twelve Dancing Princesses Fusion, F/F, after the happily ever after, fics based on fairy tales, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faranth/pseuds/faranth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is more to life than weddings, and sometimes fairy tales don't end with "happily ever after."  </p>
<p>And though she has married a prince, Eleanor's heart is called to the sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Away, O Maiden Fair

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of an attempt to move the fics I have posted on Tumblr to one place. For the purposes of this story:
> 
> America: Eleanor Felicity  
> Canada: Madeleine

_“You know that eventually a clever prince caught us flying through the window.  We had given him a sleeping draught but he only pretended to drink it.  He had eleven brothers and we were all given in marriage, one to each brother, and as it says lived happily ever after.  We did, but not with our husbands._

_I have always enjoyed swimming, and it was in deep waters one day that I came to a coral cave and saw a mermaid combing her hair.  I fell in love with her at once, and after a few months of illicit meetings, my husband complaining all the time that I stank of fish, I ran away and began housekeeping with her in perfect salty bliss.”_

_—Jeanette Winterson, Sexing the Cherry 1, p. 48 _

* * *

1.

It starts with a smile, King Arthur’s smile, as he hands his daughter over.

The Princess Eleanor Felicity is resplendent in her wedding gown.  The silvery-white lace shimmers as she moves and jewels dot her hair like stars.  Her veil floats behind her, held aloft by eleven sisters whose gazes do not stray from her form.  King Arthur beams beside her, the perfect proud papa, and slips his daughter’s hand into Prince Gilbert’s.

They make the most wonderful couple, and all who are gathered agrees.  They are beauty and easy confidence as they stand together at the altar, listening as the priest begins the wedding sermon.  A hush falls across the cathedral: no guest wants to forget this, for it is the marriage of the century.  It is the end of a fairy tale—the beginning of a new life for a princess and the prince who saved her.  It’s the happily ever after.

Only it isn’t.

2.

As the oldest of eleven sisters, Princess Eleanor Felicity knows a thing or two about responsibility.  She has known since her early childhood that she’ll marry for the good of the kingdom and that her husband will eventually rule in her father’s place.  She has learned to play hostess to dignitaries and to smile as they eye her like she’s nothing but a juicy steak set before them.  She can navigate court with the grace and wit of a queen.

And if there is one thing Princess Eleanor Felicity  _hates_ , it is responsibility.

That is why, when she stumbles across the fairy prince, Ivan, after sneaking from a meeting with the kingdom’s exchequer, she accepts to his invitation to dance.  It had been so exhilarating, that night spent dancing with the Prince, that she had agreed to all invitations after, too, and had begged to bring her sisters along.

Eleanor had loved those nights outside the castle, had danced till her shoes were worn through.  When she looks back on it, she muses that it hadn’t been about the ball—she’d spent all her life at those—or even Prince Ivan—for as handsome as he is, he’d never spoken much and she never really knew him.  It really had been about sneaking out under her father’s nose and about sharing a secret with her sisters and the feel of silk shoes wearing thin.

And when Eleanor dances, she is free.

3.

But freedom—of dancing, of songs, of  _girlhood_ —does not last forever.

They get too cocky, Eleanor realizes later.  They become so sure of themselves that they do not see deception when it lay in their very bedroom.

All of the other men had been so stupid, so easy to trick, and Eleanor and her sisters simply could not imagine that they’d be outsmarted.

But they are: Gilbert had only pretended to drink the sleeping draught, had only pretended to be unobservant and charmed by the attentions of twelve pretty sisters.  And that night, when Eleanor and her sisters snuck away in the middle of the night, Gilbert followed them and saved them from the dance and their fairy prince partners.

The problem is this: Eleanor and her sisters hadn’t needed saving. 

They hadn’t  _wanted_  to be saved.

4.

Marriage, Eleanor finds after returning from her honeymoon, is not really her sort of thing.  Gilbert’s nice enough, she supposes—he’s quick to smile and quicker to laugh—but Eleanor can’t find it in herself to want him.

(When Gilbert takes her their first night as husband and wife, it hurts and hurts, and she feels like she’s suffocating and then—

It’s over.  Gilbert rolls off of her, and Eleanor feels cold and oddly bereft.

She wonders if it will always be so.)

5.

With her sisters gone away and her husband often busy, Eleanor takes to walking along the shoreline, looking for pretty shells and sea glass.  When she’s sure that she has not been followed, she strips down to her shift and swims.

It’s the closest thing to freedom that she has now: she can push through the waves and duck away from the shore and pretend that she is adrift at sea, in a place where no one could ever find her.

(And if the sea were to carry her away, well, Eleanor wouldn’t protest.  She’s a strong swimmer, and she’s made friends of the dolphins that frolic out past the jetty.

There are sea caves all along the coast, made from rocky outcroppings and islands that almost were.  If Eleanor had to, she could make a life here.)

Eventually, the caves become a symbol of the freedom she yearns for.  They become an escape, and Eleanor spends hours exploring them.

She forgets the power she has lost and revels in ruling her own life, if only for a little while.

It’s in one of these caves on one warm, radiant day, that Eleanor first spies the mermaid.

She is the most beautiful creature that Eleanor has ever seen, with bright golden hair spread out around her like a halo and a sparkling purple tail.  Eleanor watches the mermaid shift, and her breath seems lodged in her throat when the mermaid’s tail catches the light and throws sparkles along the cave walls.

Eleanor is instantly smitten, and in her trance, she forgets to be cautious.

Her splashing causes the mermaid to jerk upward, and she glances at Eleanor in alarm before leaping back into the sea and disappearing with one last flash of violet.

She’s gone before Eleanor can even think to call out to her.

5.

With her sisters gone away and her husband often busy, Eleanor takes to walking along the shoreline, looking for pretty shells and sea glass.  When she’s sure that she has not been followed, she strips down to her shift and swims.

It’s the closest thing to freedom that she has now: she can push through the waves and duck away from the shore and pretend that she is adrift at sea, in a place where no one could ever find her.

(And if the sea were to carry her away, well, Eleanor wouldn’t protest.  She’s a strong swimmer, and she’s made friends of the dolphins that frolic out past the jetty.

There are sea caves all along the coast, made from rocky outcroppings and islands that almost were.  If Eleanor had to, she could make a life here.)

Eventually, the caves become a symbol of the freedom she yearns for.  They become an escape, and Eleanor spends hours exploring them.

She forgets the power she has lost and revels in ruling her own life, if only for a little while.

It’s in one of these caves on one warm, radiant day, that Eleanor first spies the mermaid.

She is the most beautiful creature that Eleanor has ever seen, with bright golden hair spread out around her like a halo and a sparkling purple tail.  Eleanor watches the mermaid shift, and her breath seems lodged in her throat when the mermaid’s tail catches the light and throws sparkles along the cave walls.

Eleanor is instantly smitten, and in her trance, she forgets to be cautious.

Her splashing causes the mermaid to jerk upward, and she glances at Eleanor in alarm before leaping back into the sea and disappearing with one last flash of violet.

She’s gone before Eleanor can even think to call out to her.

7.

“What exactly have you been doing down on the beach every day?”  Gilbert asks one evening at dinner. 

Eleanor pauses, her knife hovering over her beef, and tries to think fast.  Memories of swimming with Madeleine and exploring the sea caves drift across her mind, but she knows that Gilbert would not appreciate that.

“The dolphins have just given birth,” she says eventually, “and I like to watch for sea lions.”  That is true enough.  Madeleine has shown her the hidden cove where the dolphins have their calves.  She’s even learned where to find the best pearls and how to thread shells together without tearing the seaweed.

“And you don’t get bored of this?”  Her husband asks, eyebrows raised.  Then he wrinkles his nose and adds, “Either way, you smell like fish, even after your baths.  Perhaps you’d prefer to walk in the gardens instead?”

Eleanor wants to tell him that the sea is always changing, that she could never tire of it— _of Madeleine_ , she thinks—and that she doesn’t mind the salty sea-smell.  She almost decides to when her husband’s favorite knight comes to whisper something into his ear.  She thinks he mentions a joust and a tournament across the mountains, but it doesn’t really matter.  Her husband’s attention has moved elsewhere, and Eleanor doesn’t bring up the sea again.

8.

“It’s called kunzite3,” Eleanor tells Madeleine, showing her the pale purple crystal, set in silver and hanging from a thin, delicate chain. 

Madeleine takes the necklace gently and holds it up to the sky.  It glints in the sunlight, and Madeleine sighs at the beauty of it.  “It’s lovely,” she tells Eleanor.  “We don’t have anything cut like this at home.”

Under the sea, they have pearls and sea glass and shells and even a few crystals of their own, but there’s nothing quite so faceted, and nothing set in precious metals.

“I thought it would suit you,” Eleanor replies, grinning.  What she doesn’t say is: it’s the same lilac of your eyes, and when the light shines it sparkles like the scales on your tail.  But she means it all the same.  “Let me put it on you!”

“All right,” Madeleine agrees, turning so that Eleanor might fasten the chain around her neck.  When she’s done, Madeleine lets her long wet hair fall down her back and squares her shoulders so that Eleanor can get a good look.  “How is it?”

Eleanor lets her eyes trail down the chain to where the gem rests between Madeleine’s breasts.  They linger there, caught on the way the kunzite sparkles.  Then she raises her eyes to meet Madeleine again and smiles slowly.  “It’s perfect.”

9.

Sometimes they kiss.  Madeline’s lips are cool and firm, a pleasant contrast to the way that Eleanor feels so warm around her.

Sometimes they touch, too, running hands along the curve of waists and over the swell of breasts.  Eleanor holds Madeleine close and listens to the thrum of her heart, beating in steady time with the lapping of the waves against the rocks.

It never goes farther than this, but neither of them mind all that much.  Madeleine’s touch is gentle; it’s feather-light over Eleanor’s skin, and it means far more than anything her husband has said or done to her.

And when she’s with Madeleine, Eleanor feels at peace.

10.

“Come away with me.  I know a place where we can live together.  You’ll never have to worry again.”

“I can’t.  I can’t live in the ocean all the time.”

“It’s near to the shore.  Just not  _this_  shore.”

“But…  I’m a princess.  I—I’ve—there are responsibilities.”

“If those mattered then you wouldn’t be here with me, Ellie.  You know that.”

“Please don’t ask me this, Maddie.  Please.”

“Eleanor—”

“I’m sorry, Maddie, I’ve got to go.”

“Please just think about it.”

11.

“But who will rule the kingdom if I run away?”  Eleanor whispers the next time they meet.  Her hands tremble, and she nibbles at her bottom lip as she thinks.  It is habit that she has picked up from her mermaid lover.

Madeleine shrugs, her tail flicking back and forth in the shallow water.  The countries of man have never concerned her, and even now she is only interested in Eleanor who kisses with the gentleness of a summer breeze but who fights with the fury of a sea-storm.  “It was never going to be you,” is all she says.  “Now come, I’ve brought pearls for you to wear.”

Eleanor does come, and she lets her love braid jewelry into her hair.  All the while, though, her heart is heavy and she spends the afternoon uncharacteristically silent.

Madeleine is correct, and she knows it.  Eleanor will never be queen in her own right.  She might be the eldest daughter of the King, might have the blood of generations of rulers running through her veins, but it is Gilbert who will command the country, as the laws of succession decree.

The kingdom must have a king, and if there are no sons, then a daughter’s husband shall rule in her stead.  It is the way things have always been.

It is the way they will always be.

12.

In the end, Eleanor steals away in the night, slipping through the castle silently as a sea-fog.  She carries everything important to her and enough money for provisions tightly sealed in an oilcloth sack, and she clutches it to her chest as she runs barefoot toward the beach with nothing but the full moon to light her way.

Madeleine is waiting for her by their cave, and she reaches for Eleanor’s hand as soon as the other woman nears.

“Are you ready?”  She whispers, pressing a quick kiss to Eleanor’s cheek.

Eleanor trembles, from both the cool night and her nervousness, but she steels herself and nods all the same.  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replies. 

“I’ll help you to swim the distance,” the mermaid assures her, and Eleanor nods again.  She trusts Madeleine.

“Let’s go.”

(The way is long, and by the time they reach the home that Madeleine found for them, Eleanor is shivering from the cold and from exhaustion.  But Madeleine hauls herself up onto the rocks and pulls Eleanor’s miraculously dry quilt from her sack.  She wraps it securely round Eleanor’s shoulders and tells her to sleep.

When Eleanor next wakes, the sun is warm on her face, and Madeleine has brought them fish to share.)

(Getting used to the lack of luxury is hard at first, and there are times when they argue so loudly that Eleanor wonders if they’ve made the right decision.  But after a gentle touch and an apology, things are right again and Eleanor is glad she left the castle that night.

Slowly but surely they learn to live with each other and Eleanor learns to barter with the people who live on the shore nearby.  They are not rich, but they are happy, and they survive.)

(What Eleanor learns is this: there is no living happily ever after, but there  _is_  living happily.

She loves Madeleine and Madeleine loves her.  It probably won’t last forever because nothing does, but they have these moments together.

And that’s all that matters.)

* * *

_Notes:_

  1. Jeanette Winterson’s  **[ _Sexing the Cherry_](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sexing_the_Cherry)**  is in part based off of the fairy tale  _The Twelve Dancing Princesses_ , which you might read  **[here](http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/twelvedancing/)**.  Winterson writes a bit about what happens to the princesses after their fairy tale has ended, and the eldest sister and her mermaid lady is my favorite.
  2. “Yngelond” is “England” in one of the many Middle English dialects.  This country obviously isn’t the real England—it’s warm all year round there!—but canon Arthur is the personification of England, and I am no good at coming up with fictional place names.  You can find this Middle English spelling of England occasionally in Wycliffe’s Sermons.
  3. Lilac kunzite is a crystal from the mineral  **[spodumene](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spodumene)** , which is a source of lithium, and it comes in pale purples and pinks.  If you were into such things as  **[healing crystals](http://www.crystalvaults.com/crystal-encyclopedia/kunzite)** , you’d find that kunzite “ **[encourages you to open yourself to unconditional love](http://www.healing-crystals-for-you.com/kunzite-crystal.html)**.”  Plus, it’s very pretty.




End file.
